Valentine's Day
by Skylarcat
Summary: Angie Flynn hated Valentine's Day, but maybe this year was going to be different. Fluff.


**Title:** Valentine's Day  
><strong>Author:<strong> Skylarcat  
><strong>Classification:<strong> One shot. Angie Flynn, Oscar Vega.  
><strong>Rating<strong>: PG 13 It's so FLUFFY.  
><strong>Feedback:<strong> Pretty please. With a cherry on top.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Angie Flynn hated Valentine's Day, but maybe this year was going to be different. This has been sitting on my laptop FOREVER. Not sure if anyone even still reads Motive fics, but I can't seem to stop playing with them, though I jump from story to story, never finishing anything. It's fluff. Like hearts and candy fluff.  
><strong>Note:<strong> Flynn and Vega are characters that do not belong to me. Yes, I have used them without permission. However, no copyright infringement is intended. And I will return them intact and a lot more satisfied.

**X**

It was Valentine's Day. The only day that Angie Flynn loathed more than Tax Day. She hated the day. Hated the countless swarms of lovers that would always crammed the aisles of supermarkets; all last minute of course. All in search of chocolate-covered hearts and teddy bears. All believing that their love could be measured in such unnecessary items. She hated all of it, but the one thing that she detested the most was the way that society enforced the day; promoting the significance of these things like false propaganda. And in doing so, taunting those who were single, and making a mockery of lonely souls and broken hearts. And frankly, she didn't want any parts of the stupid holiday.

And if she were being honest; maybe she was a little bitter. She couldn't remember the last time she was even in a relationship on Valentine's Day. And perhaps, she was a little indignant to all the flowers and tacky romantic cards. They had never been her style. She wasn't an over-the-top romantic kind of gal, so to speak. Honestly, she wasn't very good at relationships altogether. Her track-record had proved that. Her longest relationship was five months. Not counting the five years spent as Vega's partner, but that was something different. They weren't dating. And truthfully, if Vega wasn't…well, simply put, Vega, than she probably would have jumped ship a long time ago. Anything remotely suggesting long-term always scared the crap out of her. So she would bail first. But he was different. He was her one constant. The one stable aspect of her life; he kept her sane, kept her grounded, but romantically, she was all over the map. Her partner would never stand a chance, not that he would ever want too.

It was simple really. Angie just didn't need a day to dictate how she expressed her feelings or love, and she certainly wouldn't be wasting any of her hard earn money on stupid teddy bears holding red hearts. Now flowers were different, but even so, she wanted them because she was simply on someone's mind, not because it was Valentine's Day and that was what was expected.

So she was crossing her fingers that on this day that she loathed, her and Vega would be kept busy with some interesting case, though that meant someone had to be murdered, small price to pay, she mused. Better than focusing on the fact that she was single on the one day that was designed for lovers. She wanted to gag just from the thought alone.

And her morning was already off to a rough start. She was running slightly late as usual, however, she still managed to stop and pick up three cups of hot coffee before she entered the precinct.

Punctuality had never been her thing. That was more of her partner's specialty. In fact, now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember the last time she had actually beaten him to a crime scene. She preferred to be fashionably late, as she termed it. His promptness and attention to time annoyed her as much as it annoyed him that she always insisted on driving her car; it was just one of those things that endeared them to one another.

It only took her a matter of minutes to notice that something was off. She stopped dead in her tracks, taking a moment to examine his empty desk. She frowned, already darting her eyes around the room. He was nowhere to be seen. She tried to push down the sudden dread in her stomach; it was out of character for him to be late to work.

She found Lucas sitting at his desk idly talking on the telephone. He gave her a wave as she sat his coffee down and pointed her thumb in the direction of Vega's vacant chair. Lucas glanced over and shook his head, indicating that he didn't know of her partner's whereabouts.

She sighed, walking over to her desk, and kicked out her chair. It rolled easily to the side as she pulled the strap of her bag over her head and allowed it to drop with a thud against the floor. She kicked it to the side as she plopped down into her chair, rolling it closer to her desk. Leave it to her partner to be late on Valentine's Day.

She leaned back against her seat, taking a long sip of her coffee, wondering where her partner could be. She tilted her head slightly to the side, and that's when she caught a glimpse of it. A single red rose lying across her keyboard. Her eyes lingered there for a moment, a brow lifted in consideration. She glanced up scanning the precinct for any clue as to whom could have left it, but everyone appeared busy around her, focused on their morning routines.

She placed her chin in the palm of her hand and leaned in closer to inspect the flower. Her mind mentally examining it; a million questions raced through her head. Where had it come from? Who had left it? And more importantly, why?

She reached her finger out, tentatively touching the stem. It was definitely real, which meant it wasn't a fragment of her imagination. She pressed her fingers against the soft petals and smiled in spite of herself. The thought that someone had remembered her on Valentine's Day caused butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

But who? She shot a curious look at Lucas. He failed to notice her scrutiny as he continued to talk on the phone. It certainly wasn't left by him. Though currently separated, he was still married. And besides that, Angie was far from being his type. It was also painfully obvious to everyone that he had a crush on Officer Sung, so Lucas was out. And considering Vega still hadn't graced them with his presence, it was clear it wasn't from him as well. So perhaps another coworker.

She was so invested in her thoughts that she almost failed to notice Vega walking into the precinct. By then, she no longer cared that he was late; her mind having already categorized and alphabetized a list of possible suspects. Mark Cross was on the top of the list and the mail guy who always had a weird sense of humor was on the bottom. She prayed it wasn't the later.

"Morning," Vega offered, walking passed her desk, already in the process of removing his coat. He seemed completely at ease, sliding into his chair.

"Detective Vega; how nice of you to finally join us," she announced in a slightly louder than normal voice, waving her arms exaggeratedly. Her partner was rarely late, so she wasn't about to let this go easily.

He shook his head, giving her a boyish grin. "I'm not going to live this down am I," he asked.

"Not on your life," she answered, grabbing his cup of coffee and scooting her chair over to him. She was sitting beside him, though her body faced in the opposite direction. She tilted her head slightly, sending blonde curls down her back and across the cushion of her chair. She gave him the once over. "So guess what?"

His fingers paused briefly on his scarf, narrowing his eyes at her for a moment. He was never fond of surprises. She watched with slight amusement as he finally removed the garment and placed it on his coat, turning in his chair slightly, so they could be closer. "Okay, I'll bite. What?"

Clearly, she had him interested. She handed him his cup of coffee and he eagerly took it from her, wearing a curious expression. "Thanks," he mumbled. She didn't say anything for a moment, quietly studying him. "Are you going to tell me or am I supposed to wait with bated breath?" His patience was thin, she noted.

She resisted the urge to punch him on the shoulder as she scrunched up her face. "Ha-Ha," she mocked. "I see that you're a comedian this morning as well as late." She glanced in the direction of her desk, allowing the suspense to build. She glanced back at her partner, catching his stare. "Someone left a rose on my desk this morning," she revealed.

He narrowed his eyes at her, as though trying to detect her seriousness. She wasn't sure if she should be amused or insulted. "A rose," he questioned, then rolled his eyes, turning in his chair and pulling out his keyboard with complete disinterest. "That wasn't remotely closed to the hype that you were making it out to be."

She watched him silently, attempting to read his tone. She wasn't sure if he was surprised or disgusted by the idea that someone had left her a rose. So she just pointed her finger at him as she started to push back her chair. "You know, Lucas was right. You're no fun."

He snorted. "This coming from a woman who absolutely hates Valentine's Day."

"Maybe, it's starting to grow on me." She said.

He reached out, grabbing the arm of her chair, stopping her abruptly and leaned in, so close that his face was only inches from hers. "Would you look at that? Angie Flynn becoming a romantic. I never thought I'll see the day."

She groaned. "Oh, so now you're trying to be funny. I said it was growing on me. I didn't say I was becoming one of those girls who swoon over you every time we questioned them."

He actually laughed out laugh. "They do not swoon," he said glancing at her sideways, his eyes alight with amusement.

She hit him playful on the arm, her mouth slightly ajar. "Oh my god. They totally swoon."

He grinned. "Okay, maybe they swoon a little bit." He paused, crossing his arms behind his head, looking at her intently. "Jealous much?"

"You're the one who should be jealous. I'm the one who was left the rose, remember?"

"Ouch," he said. "Should I be threatened that someone is making the moves on my partner?" His tone was light, jovial, with just a hint of seriousness.

"Oh shut-up," she snapped, hitting him playfully on the arm, and started to back away from him once more.

He kicked out his foot, placing it behind her wheel, preventing her from moving any further. "Tell me." This time his tone of voice was very serious.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling teasingly. "Maybe a little." She rolled her chair closer to him, leaning in so her head was only inches from his. "How does it make you feel to know that someone is putting the moves on your partner?"

His eyes darted to her lips as he moved closer, so close that she could feel his breath, and for a moment, she swore he was going to kiss her. But he leaned back against his chair suddenly, leaving her frowning. "Why would someone leave you a rose?"

She hissed, pushing him on the shoulder. "I don't know Vega. Maybe because I am still relatively attractive and someone was trying to be sweet. Sorry they can't all be real cavemen like you."

He didn't say anything and after a moment of silence, she pushed her chair back across the room to her own desk, frowning to herself. She was disappointed by his reaction, but then again, what had she been expecting? Did she want him to be curious? To be jealous? A little bit of both?

She could feel her face blush, the color staining her cheeks. She tucked her lip between her teeth, gnawing at it. She glanced at the rose and then hesitantly picked it up, discarding it quickly into her top desk drawer. It was just a stupid rose after all, it didn't mean anything. And that's probably where the story would have ended, if it were not for the card.

After lunch, she returned early, leaving Lucas and Vega to question a suspect, while she returned to collect a warrant. It took all of five seconds for her to notice the pink envelope on her desk. It was a stark contrast to the dark wood of her desk, and instantly her eyes landed on it. Her name was written on the outside in dark lettering and she quickly opened it, pulling out the card inside.

On the cover was a red heart, which was covered in glitter. Her eyes darted around the precinct, trying to detect its culprit, but no one gave her any indication that it came from them. She let out a breath, one in which she hadn't realized she had been holding, her fingers shaking as they opened the card. On the inside a message had been scribbled, short and sweet, 'won't you be mine', in red fine ink. She had no idea how it had gotten there, sometime before lunch, she imagined.

When Vega and Lucas returned a short while later, she was practically oozing from excitement. She raced over to them, shoving the card in their faces. Vega took it from her hand and read the message. A sound that represented a snort mixed with a grunt escaped his throat. He handed the card to Lucas. "What is this? Grade school?" Angie involuntarily flinched at his words, frowning slightly.

"I think it's sweet," Lucas offered, picking up on the tension.

"And it's a little creepy and not to mention that we have work to do," Vega interjected. "A case that needs to be solved." To serve his point, he handed Angie a file. Clearly, he wasn't interested in the subject.

"That we do," she agreed, not wanting to talk about the card anymore. When he wasn't looking, she tucked it away, beneath the rose in her desk drawer.

Angie glanced at her watch; it was nearing quitting time, which she was dreading, considering she still had several hours left until Valentine's Day was over. She glimpsed over at Vega, who sat signing a few forms, closing their latest case. She propped her legs on top of her desk, turning slightly, and approached the subject. "So you have any plans tonight, Vega?"

"I do," he said, tapping a sack of paper on his desk, until the paper became straight and even, and then placing them in a large vanilla folder. He dropped it in his file box that sat on his desk and twirled around in his chair to face her. "I have a date."

Her heart stopped dead in her chest, bile settling in the back of her throat, she swallowed, despite herself. "A date," her voice came out unsteady. She licked her lips, trying to calm her nerves. "I didn't even know you were seeing anyone."

He shrugged. "I wasn't. It's recent." She watched as he stood, collecting his coat. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She nodded. "Night," she said, watching as he walked out of the precinct, leaving her completely alone on the one day she loathed the most.

She didn't move for the next thirty minutes. When she tried to type on the keyboard, she noticed her hands were still shaking. She could feel her lips tremble, fighting the urge to cry. So what, he had a date. It's not like they never dated before. But this time, it really upset her, perhaps because it was on Valentine's Day, and she had just figured that they would stay late, working into the night and she wouldn't have to be reminded that she didn't have anyone, that she was alone. Or maybe, there was a part of her, a small part that was jealous. Not because he had a date, but because the date wasn't with her.

She frowned at the idea, it was absurd. She and Vega could never make it as a couple. They were complete opposites on the spectrum; where he was light, she was darkness, where he was early, she was late. There was no middle ground and it made sense as partners. As partners, it balanced them, made them work in union, but it terms of a relationship; it would cause too much strain, too much push and pull. It would never work…or could it? She loved Vega—just too much to actually tell him.

And now, he was dating someone else. The fact that it was on Valentine's Day was just the icing on the cake. She opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a bag of conversation hearts, shoving a few into her mouth. She made a face in disgust, they candy tasted like chalk. She threw the bag in the trashcan. God, she despised this day.

By the time she arrived home, she was practically in tears. So much so that she almost tripped over the box on her front porch. It was a large white box with an enormous red bow. She paused, examining it carefully; there was a tag with her name written across it.

She kicked the lid off with her foot and bent over picking up the slinky red dress. The top was a form-fitting bodice made from lace and scooped down at the neck in a heart shape. The bottom of the dress flowed out in a softer material and swayed slightly against her movements. She glanced at where her hands held the straps, noting the dress was in her size.

"Didn't think I had any game, did you?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, turning around quickly. Even in the darkness, she could recognize her partner's stance. "Vega, what are you doing here? I thought you had a date." It was then that she realized he was wearing a tux.

"I do," he said, pointing to the dress she was still holding. "If she would ever go get ready. We are going to be late to our dinner reservation."

She lifted a brow in confusion. "You got me the dress?"

"That and the rose and the card. I know, a bit over the top, but I figured you would appreciate the romantic gesture." He looked down at his feet, almost sheepishly.

She laughed hesitantly, still not believing the current situation. "I don't understand. You were late this morning."

"On purpose. Come on, Angie. I'm never late. I was trying to throw you off. Surprise you." He explained.

She should have known. Maybe she wasn't as good as a detective as she thought. But she didn't care; her stomach had butterflies just at the idea of her partner taking her out on a date. Her silence must have made him a bit nervous because he quickly broke the air.

"So what do you say, Angie, will you be mine?" He pulled out a dozen red roses from behind his back, and she caught her breath, realizing he was quite serious. He walked up the steps, positioning himself right in front of her and she felt all the oxygen evaporate around her. This man was forever surprising her.

She nodded. "Yes, Vega, I'll be yours." As though just the sound of her voice was permission enough, he leaned in, brushing her lips with his own.

He pulled back slightly. "I was hoping you would say that. Happy Valentine's Day, Angie."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Oscar." She said, and then leaned forward, kissing him again.


End file.
